


What's Your Deal?

by UndecidedName



Category: The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: first LL fic, wrote this like three years ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 16:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21376864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndecidedName/pseuds/UndecidedName
Summary: It's been a year, and for weeks I debated on whether it's worth seeing his face again. Whatever separated us for so long, it's disappearing, and I'm left with wonder. Should I really take up what John said, and set things straight with Five? What should I even do? What would I even say to him?
Kudos: 5





	What's Your Deal?

**Author's Note:**

> An old fic I made about three years ago, and my first one for the Lorien Legaceis Fandom to boot! The writing's about the same as it was when I first wrote it, mostly so I have something to compare my later works to. I figured it wouldn't hurt to start up fresh on Ao3 with something that signified my first contribution to the Fandom ages ago. Enjoy!

The sun hangs in the sky, beating down on me as I speed along the sea. My heart beats nervously as I drive faster, leaving a bigger spray of water in my wake. I feel the wind blow against me, my hair flying wildly behind me as I wipe off beads of sweat sliding down my brow. Maybe I’m going a little faster today than usual, even though there’s nothing special today that I’m looking forward to. If anything, it’s more like I’m anticipating what I’m going to do. I’ve had weeks upon weeks to think about this, and plenty more since discovering that he was still alive.

I readjust my sun hat so it shields my eyes. My arms start to burn from the heat, so I run a hand over them with my freezing Legacy. The cool air soothes me for a bit, but they’ll burn up again soon anyway. Doesn’t really matter, I’ve been making these trips for a little more than a month. I’d think I have the sense to bring sunscreen one of these days, but it never happens.

My mind drifts back to a year ago - we were in the heat of war, taking in everything happening so fast and suddenly. I remember looking at him with a stone-cold glare, the one look I reserved just for him ever since he stabbed us in the back at the Everglades. The traitor who came back to us in New York after John saved him, and offered his help while distancing himself whenever he was around us. Every time I saw him, the air became a thick fog of uneasiness while judging eyes bore into him like icicles.

But now, when he crosses my thoughts, I’m hit with a mix of confusion and disappointment. There’s too many things I don’t understand about him right now, and it bugs me that I didn’t know what to do about it for months. I know I should probably mention this to the others, but I’m pretty sure they would agree on the fact that we should let him slide off to do what he wants. The war is over, so he’s not our problem anymore, and we’re not his. I agree, too. But it seems I’m the only one who’s really bothered by him.

Up ahead, a tiny island comes into view. It’s only a few miles wide in diameter, and not a lot of green sprouts from the sandy surface. A few palm trees hang over the water, offering a bit of shade for the only resident to live on the island. He looks to be in bad condition: disturbing black lines wrap around his loose, flappy skin, and he’s so starved that his ribs are visible. Black patches dot all over his limbs and torso, and five ugly scars run down his sullen face. Long, shaggy, brown hair covers where one of his eyes used to be, his only good eye scanning the water in front of him. I wonder how he managed to stay alive this long, being in such a poor state. He’s fishing right now, though I doubt he could catch anything that close to the shore. It’s a mystery how he survives out here, with the uncomfortable sun rays and low food sources. Or rather, why he chose this of all islands to inhabit despite how little it offers.

I stop the boat about thirty feet away from him. His gaze doesn’t meet my direction, even though I’m within his line of sight. I get off the boat and step into the shallow water, a cool sensation sweeping over me. I feel more relaxed, the sun-burnt pain subsiding on my legs. If I come here any more after this, sunscreen is definitely a must, no exceptions. My skin is pink enough as is.

I make my way towards Five as casually as I can, cringing every time the water sloshes at my movement. I’m making a lot of noise, yet he doesn’t bat an eye or give me the slightest bit of attention. He knows I’m here, but he’s not letting that bother him. He’s acting as if I do this every day, coming to check on him and leaving after a few minutes. Well, I have done that every day, so he’s used to it. I wonder what goes on in his head though, knowing that the person who hated him the most is now visiting him like he’s an elderly in a nursing home. As if I suddenly started to care about him and wanted to make sure he’s okay out here all alone.

I reach the sandy shore and stop a few feet away from him, standing there like I’m waiting for him to react. I can’t believe I drove myself to do this, but I’m so confused and I want answers. My brain feels fried from the sun, all my thoughts clustering together in my head that I have a hard time forming a sentence to ask. Suddenly, Five speaks. “Hey, Marina,” he says quietly.

He keeps his gaze fixed to his fishing line, remaining emotionless while I stare at him, trying to respond. I thought I was going to make the first move, and he would be nervous about my calm greeting. But instead, I’m surprised by his casual greeting. I struggle to find the words to respond. “Five… how are you? It’s, uh, been a while.”

Five continues to stare at his line, but he curls his lip into a frown, as if he’s giving some thought into answering my mediocre question. My face feels hot, and I don’t know if it’s from the sun, my embarrassment, or both.

“I guess I’m kinda hungry, since I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Though it has been a while, hard to believe I could track time when living on a desolate island.” He awkwardly laughs to himself, attempting to make light of the situation - whether out of nervousness in talking to me or just glad to have someone to talk to, I don’t know. He makes a weird movement with one of his hands, twisting his fingers back and into his palm, as if he was rolling a ball over his knuckles and under his palm. I know John mentioned this once when he, Six, and Sarah first met Five. Doing this was probably how he coped with nervousness, since he paid no attention to his twitchy hand. “So, um, you’ve been coming to this island a lot. You want to talk to me about something?”

For a moment I’m confused at Five, acting this way. Trying to lighten the mood isn’t a trait of his that I’m familiar with. Can’t say I’ve seen this side of him, but I guess that’s not important. “Um, yeah, I have something important I want to ask…”

Five shrugs nonchalantly. “Go ahead. I got all the time in the world, so-” He sticks his pole deep into the sand, then finally looks at me. He looks tired, like he couldn’t sleep at all last night, or at all period. I can’t imagine him getting any sleep at all in this state, in a place like this. But he’s also attentive, calm and ready to hear out what I have to say. A side I haven’t seen for a long time, if not being the first.

I take a deep breath, and slowly draw out the words I’ve been meaning to ask for so long. “Five, when we first met you, you were still working with the Mogs.” Five cringed as I say this. I guess he really meant being done with them for good. He nods slowly, and I continue.

“We welcomed you to the team, treated you like our teammate, our friend. We were nice to you and trusted you because you’re one of us, someone who could help us win the war.” I pause, letting the words sink in. Five’s expression doesn’t falter. “But we were fools. You betrayed us and killed Eight in the Everglades. I hated you for that. Everyone hated you for what you did.”

Five slouches, his gaze averting me for a moment. It hurts to recall that painful memory, his actions that he now regrets. How he revealed his companionship with the enemy and tried to make me and Eight join him and the Mogs, dismissing Nine and Six to be incapable of understanding that the Mogs will win. How he made a dive for Nine and instead drove his blade into Eight’s heart, killing him right in front of us. I try not to stare down at him with an icy glare as silence fills the air. He mutters quietly, “I know. I deserve it.”

You absolutely do, I thought, then I breathe slowly, pushing away the grudge coming back to me. Before I say something I’ll regret. “But what you did, what’s the reason behind all this? I want to know why you betrayed us, Five.”

Silence. Five was quiet for a while, thinking over his answer. He picked a really bad decision, and the consequences were this. He probably couldn’t have seen any of this happening, given what he told us when he admitted his side in the war: he wanted power, and the Mogs promised him that. They even gave him the chance to live in their bases, and become a spy for them by pretending he was one of us. It sounds so dumb to me that Five was willing to switch sides for power alone. All of us lived hard lives running from the Mogs, and we all had Cepans who instilled the fact that us Garde had a war to win. Even if he found the plan of the Elders to be insane and just about impossible, it was a last resort of a prophecy that we were a part of. I can’t imagine the Mogs having any better idea on the war, or how we’re supposed to be.

Five let out a long sigh. “Well, I didn’t really want to join the Mogs, Marina. But it kinda made sense for me to join them at the time.”

I gave him a look of disbelief. That was a ridiculous response if I had ever heard one. “Five, they were the ones who were hunting us down. They wanted to kill us. What part of joining them made sense?”

“I mean, how I was led to them sort of made sense.” Five scratched his head. “Yes, I was running away from them every chance I had. I didn’t forget that they were the enemies, Marina. But I became buddies with one of their human associates who gained my trust. He convinced me to stay with them, where I could train and earn the power I’d desire.”

There it was with the power. I could feel something grumbling in my stomach, this weird gut feeling that reminded me why Five was the bad guy. I put restraint on myself from being angry at him again, not now. Five looked at my hands with fear in his eye, and the air suddenly drops a few degrees. I guess my Legacy is radiating again, and I quickly try to calm down, feeling the heat once again. I try to remember what I thought of Five back in the Everglade base, how sullen and upset he looked. Like the lost kid he is. Misguided when he needed help the most. Warmth returns to the air, and my hands are coated with a thin layer of moisture from my Legacy. Five takes a cautious step back, wary of my anger.

I should probably change the topic. “So, you trusted someone who led you to them. Your Cepan died six months after the trip, so you were pretty young over this?”

Five looks at me like I’m crazy, then looks up at the sky. His face scrunches up, as if he’s trying to remember the night he told us this. The scars that dragged down his face twist a little, and I almost had the urge to gag.

“Oh, I did tell you that,” Five murmurs, returning to look at me. “No, I was about thirteen I think. But I lived in extreme isolation for a good few years, so I was definitely naive at the time.”

My face fell. “Another lie you told us,” I say. Five shrugs, but doesn’t look that ashamed. “Yeah, I guess. Actually, I kinda had to cover up my whole story, even when I was with you guys. I didn’t lie about my Cepan’s name being Albert - that was true at the time. And he didn’t die from Mogs. I told a lot of truths back then, mainly the ones focused on how I felt about my Cepan and what we did, because that information didn’t matter if it was disclosed. But everything else was made up. Sorry about that.”

I want to get upset at him again, not telling us any truth about him, even when he was supposed to pretend to be on our side. Whether he was ordered to or he wanted to hide information at the time, I can’t believe this. I want to end this talk already, but I can’t will myself to do it. I need information out of him, and this time, I want the full truth.

“Five, sit down,” I tell him, taking a seat in the sand as well. Five raised his eyebrows in confusion, but hummed and did the same. I take another deep breath, and stare at his one good eye. I probably look threatening, because Five shifts uneasily and his hands start to twitch.

“Five, why did you want power so badly? What made you into this… person?” I gesture in his direction, regarding him and all the scars he bears. Five shifts again, and sticks a hand into the sand, grabbing a fistful of the soft material. For a moment, I fear he would turn his body into sand and try to avoid my question completely, but he relaxes and lets go of the siliceous rocks.

“Marina, that’s a long, pathetic story,” Five protests softly. “I’m not sure you’re going to think very differently or highly of me if I tell you.”

“I won’t think very highly of you, that is true,” I agree. “But I don’t want to keep feeling so frustrated and confused every time I decide what to do with you. So I want to know what made you this person, then maybe me and the others will understand. The Mogs messed up your mind, we get that much, Five. And I want to know how that happened.” I release a cold aura from my arms, my fingers layering with frost. “And do not lie to me this time.” I don’t want to threaten him, even though I feel the need to, but I put just enough force to get my point across.

Five sighs, and for a moment, he almost looks like a child about to cry. “Yeah, alright, then,” he says. He pulls his knees to his chest, and rests his chin on his arms and looks at me. I stare at him carefully as he starts talking.

“I lived on that island with Rey, my Cepan, for the longest time, Marina. Away from all the fun, the civilization, and forced to train by myself without Rey’s help. It’s a very boring life to live, and I hated it. I nearly doubted Lorien’s existence and thought that Rey was just some old man who kidnapped me from my actual family. Until my Legacies came in.”

I nod slowly, remembering what he told us the last time he gave his life story. “You already had doubts of Lorien.”

Five acknowledges my comment with a frown. “You could say it was the start. I really wanted to show Rey what I could do and impress him, to make him proud of me despite all the times I failed him. But I never got the chance. So I trained by myself until I felt I was ready to leave the island. Everything started falling apart after that.”

Five sighs and he glances at the waves lapping onto the shore. I nod, encouraging him to go on.

“I met two humans, both of them I trusted to be my friends. One of them discovered my Legacies and called me a freak, a monster. The other was with the Mogs, so he already had suspicions about me. I basically confirmed them for him when I got a new Legacy, and he took me to the Mogs. They could’ve killed me or kept me captured, but I guess since I trusted the human so much, I became their hidden weapon.”

“So how did you fall for them?” I ask, inching forward with interest. Worry creased my forehead as I tried to imagine his motives. “Why did you abandon our mission?”

Five turns to me, his expression unreadable. “Like I said before, I was naive. I’ve been taught all my life with Rey that this mission was important, that we were supposed to win the war and restore Lorien. But the Mogs gave me all this information, with the Great Book that Setrakus Ra wrote and some really out-of-context information of Nine, which I still sort of believe.”

“Nine?” I ask. I recall the dinner at the penthouse, when we were telling our stories about our lives before meeting each other. Nine told us about how he and his Cepan were captured by the Mogs, and he trained himself while he stayed in a prison cell until John and Sam busted him out. He kept out a few details, though I imagine they must’ve been pretty gruesome if he didn’t want to bring them up. “What about Nine did they show you?”

“Keep in mind this sort of roots down to why I held a grudge against him,” Five warns. “They gave me files on him, and an interview they recorded of his Cepan. It talked about how the higher numbers are the stronger ones, and the lower ones are weaker. How Nine rarely thought of those below him aside from tactical use and commanding us. He had a luxurious life that I was really jealous of, being popular and strong. And how he murdered his own Cepan in cold blood.”

I tense up. “Murdered?”

Five nodded slowly, like he doesn’t want to accept this information either. “Mog propoganda, now that I think about it, even if there’s some truth to it. You, Eight, and Nine all have more Legacies than the rest of us do, so you’re stronger in terms of abilities. But Six and John make more tactical use of what they have - John having a little more to work with though - so they’re stronger in terms of strategy. Regardless, as of now I will admit that Nine is the strongest out of all of us.” His shoulders sag pathetically as he looks down. “Now, murdering his own Cepan, that’s a really bad thing to do. Even I wouldn’t do it, and I had a thing against Rey. But this changed my perspective on Lorien. I’ve been taught that we were the good guys in all this, and we’re perfect people living a perfect world. But with my view on Nine being so conceited and angry and that really bad image of him stabbing… I think his name was Sandor, I began to think that the Loric weren’t as good as we were taught.”

Five is quiet for a while, his eyes distant. From what he just told me, it seemed like a lot of really convincing information to twist his mind. It became clearer why he decided to choose the Mogs in the first place. I step in with another question. “So joining the Mogs was your final decision after all this?”

“I wanted to kill Nine,” Five growled, still not meeting my glance. “I believed that he thought so little of us, would treat us like pathetic weaklings while he walked like he was the leader we were meant to follow. Imagining him and his smug killer face beaten up and begging for my mercy while I prove to him what power I felt that I truly deserved in this world, that was what kept me going. I wanted to be strong in this world, Marina, not a lowly freak or monster looked down upon. And I joined the Mogs to obtain the power I was promised.”

Five trails off, and then he just sits there. His body is relaxed, but his face is full of regret. He clearly spent a lot of time thinking over what he’s done, now that he’s no longer under the influence of the Mogs and whatever they taught him. I feel a tug in my gut, and realize that I’m feeling sorry for Five. Now that I know about his whole story - the actual story - I can see why he drifted so far from us and decided to work for the enemy. I guess I look uncomfortable, because Five turns back to his fishing pole and says “Well that was a long talk. Longer than any conversation I ever had in my life.”

It takes me a moment to register that he’s trying to make light of it, in spite of how heavy the atmosphere feels now. Five lifts the pole and stands up, continuing on with his fishing, as if nothing ever happened and I was just sitting there like a fool, staring ridiculously at Five’s camouflage pants from the war. I stand up as well, and we’re both silent, staring at the sea like we’re expecting a fish to catch the line.

“Five, I’m sorry about this,” I say. “I didn’t know-”

Five stops me. “No one knows, Marina. It’s fine. And I wouldn’t bet that anyone else would buy my story, especially Nine. I’ll be remembered as a traitor and a murderer, and nothing can change that fact. ” He gazes off into the distance, focusing on the line, but his face softens. “Thanks for listening to me, though. I appreciate having the talk.”

I stare at him, suddenly in a new light. I still feel that Five was in the wrong for the longest time, and he knows that. But I know his reasons, and that makes things a little easier to cope. I look at the black lines that wrap around him, the scars that run down his face and the hardened patches that dot his body. The injuries he earned in our final battle with Setrakus Ra, running all over his body like it’s a punishment to remind him of his choices. I heard how John was able to get rid of them and eventually defeat Setrakus, healing him to get rid of the sickening goo. Maybe I could do that for Five, to heal him. Five sees me out of the corner of his eye and then looks down at his disfigured body. Then he looks at me again.

“Weird looking body, huh?” He doesn’t smile, but his tone almost sounds amused, as if the fact that he looks so horrific is funny to him.

“Not really,” I comment. “Spoils of war, makes you seem like a veteran of some sort.”

Five nods. “It’s fine. It’s kind of what I deserve for what I did.” He looks down at his left foot, which is wrapped up with an old white bandage that had turned yellow at some point. I realize that was the foot that I impaled back in the Everglades, along with his eye. I wince, remembering what I did. Five stares back at the ocean. “Just like the other scars, I’ll keep them as reminders. I don’t want them healed, Marina.” He touches where his brown hair covers his missing eye. “Some things I want to stay as they are.”

His fishing line tugs away from him, and Five yanks his pole in. On the hook is a small fish, about the size of his palm. Five tosses it back into the ocean and casts his line out again.

“Eight would forgive you,” I blurt out. That was a random thing to say out of nowhere, and even Five seems surprised by this. But I felt the need to say it, to make sure that Five wouldn’t have it stuck in his mind. It made sense, considering everyone, especially me, got mad at him for that action.

Five hums to himself, and a quiet smile forms on his face. “Well, he seems to be that type,” he muses. But his expression returns to a frown, like he thought of something unfortunate. I know what he’s thinking, and I quickly speak up.

“I’m sure the others would forgive you, Five. Even Nine,” I console. “You helped us in the war, and you tried to make up for your mistakes. And you learned who the real enemy was.”

Five nodded, not saying anything else.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, if that’s fine. Maybe in the future, I can bring one of the others, so you’ll reconnect with people.” I offer. I turn back to my boat, waving to him as I do. It’s faint, but I’m pretty sure I hear Five say “Thanks” as I head out.

I turn the boat away from the island and sail back out to sea. The sun is still high in the sky, beating down on me just as it was long before. It feels awkward, leaving Five like that. Maybe I could’ve said more, but I already heard what I needed to. It took forever for me to recognize that Five had motives, and they sort of made sense when I finally learned them. But at least now, I can see Five in a better light. Not an enemy, but just someone who was lost and needed help. And I can help him now. And hopefully it’ll turn out for the better.


End file.
